


for keeps

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, F/M, Friendship/Love, Religion, Sharing a Bed, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12849198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: From otpprompts: Ned ‘buys’ Nancy, as she is a prostitute. Ned treats Nancy kindly, something Nancy has never experienced before meeting Ned. Gratitude becomes affection and Nancy has her first real kiss, first friend, and first love.





	for keeps

Ned wore his second-best suit with a red tie, and he felt like a glowing red neon light was blinking on and off above his head the whole time.  _Idiot. Naive. Pushover._

But he had volunteered. It was part of the church’s ministry, and as associate pastor, he wanted to demonstrate his willingness to help out in the community. Everything about it still felt wrong. He even felt uncomfortable in his suit; he kept adjusting his cuffs, like that would change anything.

_They need help. They need help. They need help,_  Ned thought to himself. He closed his eyes and said a brief prayer, his lips moving with the last words; he didn’t want to be afraid for himself, but a small voice in his head kept whispering,  _Two people shot on this streetcorner last week._

Which was all the more reason. He felt for the roll of bills in his pocket and felt another rush of secondhand self-consciousness. At his previous church, he knew of parishioners who definitely would have objected to what he was about to do, claiming that God wouldn’t want their tithes going to a pimp. But it was the fastest way.

Just then he looked up and saw her edge into the pool of illumination beneath a streetlight, only for a few seconds, before she faded into the shadows again. She was young, and the fishnet stockings she wore beneath the fur-collared coat couldn’t provide any protection against the cold; her high-heeled boots slipped a little on the slush and she was shivering.

When he looked at them, he didn’t feel desire, only pity and a need to help them. He wished he had enough money for all of them—but it was horrifying enough that he was even able to purchase a human life for any price.

He zipped up his overstuffed coat as he locked the car, then headed across the street with his head down. Cars drifted by, bass beats causing their windows to rattle, and the girls drifted forward again. The girl he had spotted earlier was among them. She was the only one in fishnets, he noticed.

Pastor Lane had told Ned that sometimes it was easier with the younger ones; they still had some hope, anyway. Some of them. Ned had been told about the four most recent girls the church had been able to buy and help get back on their feet. It was just so disheartening, to know that what they were doing was helping, that it meant the world to those they were able to help, but there were so, so many left behind with every choice.

A dark-haired woman approached Ned before he could reach the girl he had been watching. “You lookin’ for a little company tonight, sugar?” she said, putting her hand on her hip.

Ned cleared his throat and nodded, his motions jerky; he knew he was blushing, and he hated it. The dark-haired woman’s lips turned up. “You want anything off-menu, or are you vanilla, sweetie?”

“I… I just wanted to talk to her,” Ned managed to stammer out, nodding in the direction of the girl wearing the fishnets.

“You treat her right,” the dark-haired girl said in a low warning, as the other stepped forward.

Ned took a step forward, too, focusing on her face. Her blue eyes were wide and rimmed in dark liner and mascara. “Who’s your—your pimp?”

She searched his face. “You have something special in mind?”

Ned shook his head. “Just—just a business arrangement.”

“Well, you wanna book me for the night…” She tipped her head in the direction of a glossy black van parked on the corner, gleaming orange under the streetlight.

Ned approached the rather savage-looking man, whose face bore a wicked healed scar, and explained what he wanted. Pastor Lane had told Ned to barter with the man, to offer him a number below what he was willing to pay at first. But when the pimp named his price for the blue-eyed prostitute, his glittering eyes watchful as he focused on Ned, his tentative counteroffer was met with a solid, baleful glare. The pimp’s muscular arms were crossed.

“That’s my price. Take it or leave it.”

It was fifty more than Ned had been given for the night. His heart beat faster; his palms were sweaty, and he felt sick. If he left her here, she might be gone the next time he came by.

Ned set his jaw and reached for his wallet. He had sixty dollars left in his wallet from his paycheck. The pimp counted the money, taking his time, then gestured for her to come over. Without a word, he shoved the girl in Ned’s direction.

“Come with me,” Ned said, trying to keep his voice gentle. He offered her his arm, and she glanced from it to his face and back again. Then she glanced back at her pimp, which made Ned’s heart rise until it seemed to be choking him.

In his car, he had expected to be overwhelmed by the scent of cheap perfume or fragrance; instead, he didn’t smell anything more than a trace of sweat. She unzipped her coat, revealing a hot-pink top in shiny satin and a short skirt. “How long?”

He glanced over at her. “Forever,” he told her. “You aren’t going back.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and he heard her draw in a long breath. “Oh,” she said softly.

“It’s not like that,” he rushed to add, as he started his car. “I’m taking you somewhere safe. You can relax, have a warm meal and a shower and—and whatever you need. Get back on your feet.”

“And in exchange…”

“In exchange, nothing,” he told her. “I mean, we’d love if you would come by the church every now and then, let us know how you are. But that’s all.”

She still seemed tense and skeptical, but Ned continued toward the church. “What’s your name?” he asked her.

“Blair,” she replied.

She was quiet after that, and Ned didn’t know how to fill the silence. He fumbled for his cell phone, dialing Pastor Lane’s number.

“Everything ready?”

Pastor Lane sighed. “I came in just to make sure and we’ve tried three times to get the heat to come on. It’s conked out. The soonest a repairman can get here is the morning.”

They discussed alternatives, but in the end, Ned parked in front of his apartment building and she zipped up her coat again. Earlier, when she had thought he was a customer, her face had been friendly, her eyes sharp; now her lips were a straight line, and in the interior light he could see the not-quite concealed shadows of exhaustion below her eyes. She looked wary.

“So where are we?”

He considered lying, knowing that she probably wouldn’t feel any better if he told the truth, but he couldn’t do it. “My place,” he admitted. “I was going to take you somewhere else but the heat there is broken and it’s way too cold outside. It’s all right, you can still get a good night’s sleep. I’ll…” He had spent almost all the money in his wallet; he would have offered her take-out, but he had no way to pay for it. “I’ll make you something warm to eat once we’re inside.”

She just studied his face for a long moment, without reacting. She was so quiet that her breath was almost imperceptible, and she looked like she was ready to run.

And if she did run, if he woke up in the morning and she was gone, it would just be a matter of time before she was back on the streets again. And he had no idea what to do or say to make her feel comfortable.

She really did have beautiful eyes.

She rode the elevator with him, but she moved as far away from him as possible when they were in the car together; she hung back as he walked down the hallway, and he didn’t say anything. He was afraid she would startle and just run away from him. “So here we are,” he said, unlocking the door and looking back at her.

She still held back, and he saw a little tremble in her lips. She was afraid of him. He had bought her; no one knew where she was. She didn’t know him.

He took a deep breath. “Well, if you aren’t comfortable staying here tonight, do you know someone else who could help you? Do you have somewhere else to stay?”

But he knew the answer before he asked. If she’d had somewhere else to stay, somewhere safe, she would have been there and not working the corner. She glanced down, then back up into his face; he watched her set her jaw and tip her head back a little, then walk into his apartment with her chin up.

He closed and locked the door behind him, glancing around at the clutter; he needed to tidy up the room. “The bedroom’s through that door,” he told her with a gesture. “Bathroom right beside it. Fresh towels under the sink. If you want to, um… get comfortable, I’ll make us something for dinner.”

She vanished into the bathroom, and he found himself wondering whether she would try to escape through the window or not. To distract himself, he tidied up the main sitting area, putting away the junk mail and wiping a layer of dust off the coffee table. Then he went into the kitchen.

He didn’t have much in the pantry, but he did find three cans of soup, a bag of rice, and two sleeves of crackers that weren’t stale yet. When he shivered, he went to the thermostat and cranked it up a few degrees, wincing as he did; then he went to his bedroom, hastily stripping off the suit and shedding the discomfort he had felt while wearing it. Generally he didn’t mind wearing suits, but tonight it had just felt strange. He put on a sweatsuit and was just tugging on a pair of socks when the bathroom door creaked open. Blair’s head emerged a little; her skin and hair were wet.

“I don’t have anything else to wear,” she admitted.

“Oh! Oh…” Ned rummaged around in his dresser and pulled out another sweatsuit with drawstrings she could pull tight so the garments didn’t fall off. The apartment was still cool, so he took out a pair of socks too and gave everything to her in a pile.

“Thanks,” she whispered, and then the door was closed again.

He had heated up two cans of soup when she emerged; he had six slices of bread but nothing to put on them, so he slotted four into the toaster and buttered them. Blair was towel-drying her hair, and though she had pulled the drawstrings tight, his sweats were still far too large for her. “Soup and toast,” Ned announced. “I know it’s not much, but at least it’s warm. That okay?”

She nodded, and he set her bowl down at the small kitchen table. “Thanks,” she murmured.

Dinner was quiet; he heard the wind shrieking around the apartment house, the floor creaking upstairs, doors opening and closing. Otherwise they were silent, listening to the spoons scrape the bowls and the crunch of the toast. She cast a few glances at him, but with her exaggerated makeup washed away, her eyes still faintly rimmed in the last few traces of that dark eyeliner, she looked even younger than she had on the corner. Young and pale and scared, on the point of bolting.

“So tomorrow,” he told her, “I think Pastor Lane said we can take some money to the thrift store so you can buy some clothes. You’ll have a place to stay until you have some money of your own and you can find somewhere else. And your pimp isn’t coming after you. He sold you to me, so you’re safe now.”

She sniffled and looked down at her bowl. When she reached up and tucked a still-damp lock of wavy hair behind her ear, the cuff of his borrowed sweatshirt fell down and he saw a purple-gray bruise on her wrist. “Why me?” she whispered.

Ned’s eyes widened a little.  _Because you looked like you were young enough to save._  "I don’t know,“ he said.

She glanced over at him. "Thanks for dinner,” she said, and when she began to push herself up, he stood up too. “I'm—I’m really beat. If that’s okay.”

He nodded. “Take the bed. I'll—let me get another blanket for you.”

“I can’t take your bed.”

“It’s no problem. The couch isn’t so bad. Take the bed.”

She studied his face for a long moment, then nodded.

They went into his bedroom together, and Ned found an afghan his mother had made for him, and draped that over the bed in case the girl needed it. She moved beneath the covers and he saw that she had brought her small bag and her original outfit with her, nearby. He wondered if he would find her gone in the morning.

“Sleep well,” he told her, and paused at the door with his hand on the light switch.

She was almost fully covered. “Thank you,” she murmured. “My name—my real name is Nancy.”

–

She wasn’t gone in the morning.

He took her to the thrift shop, one of the larger ones, and with their limited funds they bought her a pantsuit and a nice blouse, a pair of low pumps, a few sweatshirts and pairs of jeans. They went to a discount store for her to buy new items, underwear and socks, sneakers and pantyhose and makeup. As the day went on she kept glancing over at him, her head hanging lower and lower, and he thought he knew what she was thinking. Nothing was free, not even this, and all she had to give was herself.

To make her feel better, once she was dressed in some of her new clothes, they went to the soup kitchen and both of them helped serve. He hoped it would make her feel like she was paying them back somehow, and Nancy greeted a few of the guests with some sign of recognition.

He hadn’t been able to say exactly why he was drawn to her, why he had picked her from the rest. She hadn’t been particularly beautiful on that streetcorner, but she had been the only one with reddish hair, and when she gave the guests small, genuine smiles as she served them, her eyes warm, her hair tucked behind her ears, she was beautiful.

It was just easier to take her back to his apartment again, instead of leaving her alone at the church for the night. He told himself it was just in case the heat conked out again.

“So what do you want to do? To be?” he asked her that night, when they were both sitting on the couch sipping mugs of hot instant apple cider.

She shrugged. “A long time ago I wanted to be a detective,” she said, and shook her head as she snickered. “A long time ago.”

“That sounds neat,” he told her. “Tomorrow we can look into that.”

She kept her head down, and he didn’t intrude on the silence, just took another sip of apple cider. “I haven’t thought about that since I was ten years old,” she whispered. “It’s been a long time.”

Slowly she told him about her past. Her mother had died when she was very young; her father had been gunned down in front of her when she had been ten years old, and all the light in her world had gone out. She had been sent to foster homes; he could tell by what she said and what she carefully didn’t say that there had been abuse there, from other foster children and from foster parents. She had run away at sixteen; she hadn’t finished high school. She had been so miserable that living on the street had seemed like a better option, but she had been starving. Then she had been all she had left to sell.

He moved closer to her. “I’m sorry,” he told her quietly. “I’m so sorry. Can I give you a hug?”

He saw fear in her eyes; she clearly thought that it wouldn’t end there. His heart broke a little when she nodded anyway, putting down her mug.

He just held her, stroking her back at her shoulder blades. “I’m sorry. You’re safe now, okay? I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re safe. It’s going to be all right.”

After a moment, she rested her head against his shoulder and sighed.

–

Over the next month, she studied for the GED and took the test, passing easily; she was smart, she had just found herself in bad circumstances. When the church had enough money to save another girl, he asked if she knew of someone they should work to save. Together, they found her and bought her, and he saw Nancy answer the girl’s cynicism with brisk but sympathetic reassurance. He was infinitely grateful for her help.

And he didn’t move Nancy out of his apartment, or ask her to leave. He liked her being there. He liked the company; he hadn’t realized how lonely he had been.

On Christmas Eve, she was working as a sales clerk and he was at the evening service, assisting Pastor Lane. The church was decorated with a tall, beautiful live tree, decorated with symbolic ornaments, topped with a star. The choir sang Christmas carols and the faces in the congregation were aglow and happy. It was Christmas. It was his favorite time of the year.

And then she slipped in and took a place in the last pew, and the warmth of his happiness doubled. She glanced up at him, tucking her hair behind her ears, and gave him a smile.

That night, once they were back at his apartment, she vanished and returned to the living room with a small wrapped gift. “This isn’t nearly what you deserve, after all you’ve given me, but I wanted to give you something,” she said apologetically. “Merry Christmas, Ned.”

He looked into her eyes. “I—I was going to give you my gift tomorrow—do you want to wait? Or do you want me to open it now?”

“Now,” she said. “It’s not much.”

She looked self-conscious, her gaze anxious, as he tore away the red wrapping paper and opened the small box. Inside he found a silver angel ornament; the angel held a sparkling crystal.

“This is what you were to me,” she said softly. “What you are to me.”

He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you so much,” he told her. “This is really sweet, Nancy. Thank you.”

She searched his eyes when he pulled back, and her eyes were shining, and he felt suddenly nervous. He couldn’t make himself pull away, though. Pastor Lane had told him to be careful, when Nancy had stayed for more than just that first night. He had saved her; that alone might make her see him differently than she would have. She was living with him, too, and he saw it as doing a favor for a friend. If she developed feelings for him… he would have no idea what to do.

He cleared his throat and released her, taking a step back. She looked down, and he could finally breathe again. “I’ll put on my pajamas. Would you like to watch a movie?”

She nodded. “That would be nice. And tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow after the morning service, I’ll be taking the van to Mapleton. If we leave at twelve, can you go?”

She nodded again. “As long as it’s not an imposition.”

Ned shook his head immediately. “Not at all. Please don’t worry about it. The more, the merrier, as far as my parents are concerned.”

He had never seen the dress she wore when she climbed onto the van the next day. It was a deep blue and it draped at her neck, and her slender waist was cinched by a belt. Her reddish-gold hair was curved under a little, and was shining, and her blue eyes looked even more blue with her dress. Ned was speechless for at least a few seconds.

“Did I dress up too much?”

Ned shook his head. Pastor Lane and Ned were taking Nancy and a few other frequent visitors at the soup kitchen who had no family nearby to Mapleton so they could have a home-cooked meal. The others wore jeans or sweats; one wore an aged suit. “You look beautiful,” he told her softly, and the smile that lit up her face made his heart skip a beat.

His parents had set up a long table in the den, and the spread was incredible: turkey and ham, casseroles and side dishes, cookies and pies. Ned had tried to help pay for the meal, but his parents had said it was part of their gifts for the year. Ned’s father and mother greeted each guest warmly; Nancy was the last. “And you’re Nancy?” Ned’s mother asked.

Nancy nodded, then glanced back at Ned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Nickerson,” Nancy said, as Ned silently hoped that his parents wouldn’t embarrass him. They knew that he and Nancy were friends, but they didn’t know everything.

Pastor Lane and Ned and the six guests enjoyed the meal; that was clear when the last scoop of sweet potato had been dished out of the casserole, when the plate of chocolate cookies had been reduced to crumbs, and everyone was full to bursting. When Ned’s mother began clearing dishes away, Nancy rose to help her.

Pastor Lane was returning to the city to eat dinner with her family, so after the plates were cleared and Ned’s parents had given out candy canes and small bags of cookies to take home, along with warm gloves, hats and scarves, they began to find their coats and prepare to leave. Ned’s parents shook hands with each of the guests, wishing them a merry Christmas. When Ned’s mother looked at Nancy, though, she reached for her and wrapped her in a long, warm hug.

“Thank you so much, for everything,” Nancy told her, and Ned could see that her eyes were shining when she pulled back. “It means so much to me.”

Ned didn’t need to return to the city, but since they had all come in the van, he returned with Nancy and the other guests. He was humbled to know that for some of the guests, their only present was what his parents had given them. They had always been so generous with him; every Christmas morning he had come downstairs to an enormous pile of presents. He had wanted for nothing.

Once they were in his apartment again, Ned pulled out the gifts he had wrapped for Nancy. “Merry Christmas,” he told her.

She unwrapped each of them, tearing open the card envelope first. He had picked the most beautiful card he could find, and he had tucked a gift card inside so she could pick out her own new items instead of going to the thrift store. He gave her a small well-bound Bible, and a well-insulated coat with pockets and a zipper and a hood. Her other coat, the fur-collared one she had worn when he had first seen her, was flashy but made of thin material that didn’t provide much protection.

She looked up at him, and with another breath she was in his arms, her own arms wrapped around him. “It’s too much,” she murmured. “Oh, Ned, thank you. Thank you.”

When she pulled back and he looked into her eyes, he felt that same nervousness again. She had lost the hollow, wary look; she looked healthy and soft and warm, her skin creamy and smooth, and her eyes were no longer shaded by exhaustion. He knew that she might think she was infatuated with him, but he was just an associate pastor, just doing his job. It was just a crush, and he couldn’t take advantage of her gratitude and her vulnerability. He couldn’t. He couldn’t save everyone, and he couldn’t jeopardize what he had done for her by encouraging some ill-advised flirtation.

He reached up and touched her cheek, and he had every intention of murmuring some apology.

Instead, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, gazing into his eyes still. When she tipped her chin up, he couldn’t resist it. He leaned down and she met him halfway, her lips pressing to his in a gentle kiss. It was chaste and sweet, and his heart was beating so hard.

“That’s the first time I’ve kissed someone because I wanted to,” she said softly.

That night Ned was unfolding the quilt so he could sleep on the couch when Nancy came into the room wearing a long-sleeved top and flannel pants. The room was golden in the glow from the Christmas tree in the corner; Ned had placed the ornament she had given to him on the tree, near the top, with a smile. 

“Hey. Did you want to watch a movie?” Ned asked, spreading the quilt over the couch.

She shook her head. “We can,” she said. “But I was just thinking that this is ridiculous. You’ve been sleeping on the couch for almost two months now and you have a perfectly good bed in the next room. Maybe you’re just trying to guilt me into finding some other place to stay.”

He shook his head. “No, no. You’re welcome to stay here, Nancy; you always have been. For as long as you…”

“Want, or need?” she replied, and her lips had turned up in a small smile. “The last girl we bought off the street, she spent the night at the church and then went to Mrs. Bradshaw’s house to stay and get back on her feet. But I’ve been here taking up your bed ever since the night you bought me. Why?”

“Because—because you barely even trusted me that night…”

_Because, with you, I don’t feel so lonely._

She stepped close to him and took his hand, looking up into his face. “I want you to come to bed with me,” she told him, and his heart skipped a beat. “I want you to hold me, so I don’t feel bad about kicking you out of your bed, so I can feel warm and safe, and like someone actually cares about me. That’s all. It’s been so long.” She sniffled, and looked away for a few seconds. “It’s been so d—darn long.”

He knew what he was supposed to say. Then he looked into her shining eyes and he wasn’t sure anymore.

He allowed her to lead him into his bedroom; he was torn, though, when she released his hand and moved beneath the covers. He generally slept in his underwear, but he knew that would be inappropriate. He would be miserable if he slept in his flannel pajamas, though.

“A pastor who sleeps naked?” she guessed, gazing at him from the bed.

He shook his head and felt a flush rising in his cheeks. “In my underwear,” he admitted.

“Go ahead,” she said. “It’s your bed.” She looked like she was going to say something else, but she didn’t.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned the light off before turning away from her and stripping off his top and pants. The room was chilly, but the bed was made with three blankets.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she told him softly. “You’re a very handsome man.”

“It’s not that,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say.

She moved close to him and cuddled up against his side, and he looped his arm around her waist as she rested her head against his shoulder. Her body felt warm and soft and lovely against his. “I’ve never—done this before,” he admitted.

“True love waits, huh?”

“Kind of, I guess.”

“So you’re looking for some sweet, virginal girl. Someone pure like you, who thought it was important to wait.”

“Not really,” he told her. “A lot of other qualities are far more important to me. If I were to be married, the woman I marry would need to share my beliefs. She would have to be patient and understanding; I spend a lot of time working and helping out at the church, but it’s because I love it, and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I know it’s not a glamorous life, and I know I’ll never make a lot of money doing it; I know a lot of women couldn’t reconcile themselves to that, so it would take someone special. And, above all else, I would want my wife to be happy to be with me.”

“Any woman who wasn’t happy to be with you would be a fool.”

He shrugged. “If I found someone—well, it was important to me, to wait. I wanted to share that experience with my wife, for the first time. But I wouldn’t reject a woman who hadn’t felt that way, for whatever reason. I’m not concerned about the past; I’m concerned about the present and the future.”

“I think it’s easy to say that,” she said softly. “My past will always be with me.”

“True. But it isn’t all you are,” he said. “And it’s not all you will be.”

She sighed. “I wish things were different,” she whispered.

“If we’d met under different circumstances…”

“But we can’t change it,” she murmured.

“You would never want to be with someone like me.”

They said it at the same time, almost exactly the same way, and Nancy moved so she could look into his face, her blue eyes widening a little.

“You couldn’t love me; you know what I was before.”

“You can’t be in love with me because you’ll never know if it’s just gratitude, just because I showed you some kindness.”

She shook her head. “You’ve shown me so much more than that,” she said. “You’re the first friend I’ve had in a very long time, and you’ve given me so much—you cook for me and take care of me and you don’t ask for anything, and it has been so damn long since I’ve had that.”

“And the life you were in before—Nancy, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. And you have been doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

She gave him a small smile. “And that’s all,” she said softly. “You’re going to be a pastor one day. You can’t have a former whore for a girlfriend. I’m sure the parishioners would hate that.”

“‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,’” Ned said, reaching up and touching her cheek.

She searched his eyes. “You say that now.”

“How much of a fool would I have to be, to give up someone who is so incredible,” he murmured.

Her eyes began to gleam. “Do you feel it too?” she whispered. “I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never… there’s never been anyone who didn’t want something from me, and I… I want to know how it feels, to be safe, even if it’s just for a little while.”

His heart was beating so hard. “I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered. “For as long as you want, I will.”

“Forever?” she whispered, and his fingers slipped into her hair.

“Forever,” he murmured, drawing her to him for another kiss.

–

They were married when the leaves were beginning to turn, in a riot of yellow and burnt orange and deep red, when the first breath of cold was in the air again. But she didn’t fear it as she once had. She would never fear it again, not with him by her side.

She had been taught that vulnerability meant pain, that her tenderness would earn only scorn and bruises. Her body was worth only as much as she could earn, no more. Ned was the first man she had met since her father had died who had given to her without expecting anything in return. He had shown her more love than she had ever thought she deserved.

Their friends from the soup kitchen and the church were in the pews, along with Ned’s family and college friends, but Nancy only had eyes for Ned, and he for her. His eyes had been aglow with such love since he had seen her, and she gripped her bouquet a little tighter. She wore a cream lace dress that she had found at a secondhand shop and she and Ned’s mother had altered for her; a beautiful chocolate-satin sash was tied about her waist.

The night he had proposed to her, he had told her that she was the woman he had been waiting for, that he loved all of her, without reservation, no matter what. He had saved himself for her, and she had been to the doctor. She was safe, now. She wouldn’t pass on any infections to the man who was about to become her husband.

Her one, her only, for the rest of their lives. Her best friend, her family, her love, all at once. The people who loved him had accepted her, especially once they saw how happy he was to be with her.

She had been so, so afraid, but the nightmares had begun to fade. She welcomed his touch instead of shying away from it, the way she had with everyone else. And she had resolved that she would do everything she could, to make him as happy as he had made her. They would work together to find other people like her, people who had fallen through the cracks and needed help. And she couldn’t wait.

She would never have believed it possible, but since that first night, since he had bought her freedom, she had bound to him, and he to her. She had wanted to die, before that night. She would have, without him, and she would have been glad to leave her misery behind.

Now she looked at the days before her and the man who would share them with her, and felt only joy.


End file.
